Disclaimer: I do not own Gilmore Girls, nor have I ever owned them. I also do not own Brad Paisley or Allison Krauss. sniff Ah well.
A/N: This story is based on the song "Whisky Lullaby" by Brad Paisley and Allison Krauss; and deals with themes of alcoholism and suicide. Thank you all for reading this and I look forward to reading what you think.
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Luke, I can't keep doing this. It hurts too much. I love you. I will always love you, but I can't keep getting hurt by you. It has to stop and I know that I'm the only one that can stop it. Please, don't make this harder than it already is. Please, just leave me alone… let me go. I love you. I will love you forever. I'm so sorry. Goodbye, Luke.
She kissed him goodbye for the last time and walked out of the diner, leaving him standing there with tears running down his face and a small shiny ring laying on the counter next to the brown circular stain in the shape of a coffee cup- her coffee cup.
What just happened? How could he have let it go this far? How could he be such an idiot? He'd not only lost the love of his life, he'd just lost his best friend and all over words that were never spoken, opportunities missed… a life ruined. Now, there was nothing left. Nothing for him here. There would be no second chance. Not this time. Too much had happened for that. It was over… And still he couldn't believe it. What was he going to do, now?
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That night, it started. He didn't want to start, but something inside of him died that night. So, to try to fill the void, he had to do something… anything… to fill the void, to numb the pain, to try to forget… her. Forget her, yeah, like that was even possible. He lived for Lorelai, he breathed Lorelai. Everything reminded him of her. Everything. The smell of coffee brewing reminded him of her kisses and the color of her hair. He couldn't walk into the diner without seeing the walls and remembering how she had talked him into painting it and even helping to pick the colors. He couldn't see the Gazebo without being reminded of bidding on her basket or the night of their engagement. His truck reminded him of her… the times they spent together in it traveling to Martha's Vineyard or that emergency run to the hospital.
He tried to get her off of his mind. He went fishing, but that reminded him of teaching her to fish. He even entertained thoughts of going to Sniffy's, but that wouldn't work on so many different levels. First he would have to explain to Maisy and Buddy why Lorelai wasn't there. Then there would be the whole awkwardness of him going back to the scene of their first real date.
Finally, the memories just became too much for him and he decided that a drink may be what he needed. He went out for beer and came home with a bottle of Jack Daniels too. He wasn't a hard drinker, but the black and white label seemed to beckon to him. If it's good enough for all those heartbreaking country songs, it's good enough for him. Besides, it's only going to be this one time. Right?
Once he was home in his near empty apartment, he opened the bottle of amber liquid and poured himself a glass. His hands began to shake and tears came to his eyes as a vision of Lorelai floated through his mind, mocking him for being weak and spineless. Angrily, Luke brushed the tears from his eyes and took a large gulp of whisky. The liquor burned going down, a physical representation of the pain that filled his heart.
Again, Lorelai's face was there, reminding him how much he screwed up. He took another swig and another until, after a while, his body became numb to the pain. It was still there, but at least now it was contained. Luke didn't care that he was drunk; just that the pain he felt wasn't so strong that he felt he was being ripped in two.
He finished the bottle, and, fully dressed but no longer caring, crawled over to his bed… the large bed Lorelai had insisted he get. It didn't matter how drunk he actually was, he couldn't' seem to get her off his mind. The tears were starting again. Damn, he was determined not to cry over her! Where was that bottle when he needed it?
That bottle was empty, he knew. He rolled over and grabbed her pillow from her side of the bed, burying his face in the soft down. It still smelled of her… coffee, coconuts, and her perfume. It struck him again that she would never be back in that room with him again. He'd lost her forever, all because he was too stupid to see beyond his preconceived notions of duty and family honor.
Then, he did something very "un-Luke-like." He allowed himself to give in to his emotions. He hated himself, but he couldn't deny the pain that was welling up inside of him, ready to explode. The tears evolved into full blown sobs. Luke surrendered to his sadness, increased by the amount of alcohol coursing through his body and he soon passed out from drink and exhaustion, his face still buried in the now tear-soaked pillow.
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After that night, Luke developed a new routine. He would try to muddle through his day at work without burning too much of the food or throwing too many customers out of the diner. He attempted to be a part-time father to April without falling apart in front of her because she reminded him too much of Lorelai and Rory.
He'd send her home at 7p, and then he would close up at 7:30 so that he would have enough time to get to the package store before they closed down at 8pm. There, he would stock up on his new best friends: Jack Daniels, Jim Bean, and Mr. Jameson. He'd sit in his dark apartment listening to Hank Williams, Hank Snow, Hank Thompson, and Willie Nelson, and drink himself into oblivion in a feeble attempt to forget Lorelai.
It never worked. He couldn't get rid of her memory- she haunted him even in his dreams. He still looked up when the bell over the door rang in the diner. He would come down in the morning expecting to hear her laughter as she heckled Caesar or Lane for another cup of coffee. At night, he could feel her presence in the room. Sometimes he thought he could hear her in the bathroom brushing her teeth or sitting at the table drinking coffee.
So he drank to numb the pain. At first it was just a nightly ritual, but after about 6 months, that wasn't enough. He started to drink before he came downstairs in the morning. He told himself it was just a hangover cure… a drop of the hair of the dog that bit you, so to speak. Then it was just enough to relax him so he wouldn't throw more people out than he needed to that day. This evolved into a drink in the morning and a few at lunch time, along with his regular nightcap. The more he drank, the more he needed to drink, until the day that Lane and Kirk had to physically remove him from his own diner because he was too drunk to stand.
It was then that he stopped caring. He hated what he had become… what her leaving had done to him. He couldn't do it anymore. He couldn't go on like this. He couldn't go on without her, and, as getting her back was not an option, he couldn't live without her.
He had made his decision. Luke took one last look at the signs in front of him, Luke's Diner and William's Hardware, swallowed hard and quickly walked away before he lost his courage.